As my time in Eugene draws to a close, I find myself reflecting back upon the experience. I may hate the fact that Eugene drivers refuse to take their cruise control off 20 mph when traveling down 18th Avenue, but I love the laid-back nature of this city. Eugene radio is horrendous, but public radio stations KWVA and KRVM never fail to entice me with a dose of old time blues and the occasional reggae hour.
Attending the University of Oregon, I have met friends who applied to Harvard, Yale, NYU, Berkeley. Some sent more than 15 applications and admissions essays to schools around the country, dreaming of a culture-shocked life as a University of Atlanta student, celebrity professors in New York City or semi-frequent trips to detox at UC Santa Barbara.
When it was time for me to pick a college, I had few fantasies of a life-altering, mind-changing, shock-you-to-the-core University experience. I didn’t care about gaining entrance to a top school in the nation. I didn’t care about visiting an exotic state I couldn’t even identify on a map (such as “Delaware”).
By age 16 I had already decided that the University of Oregon, an in-state school with no particular claims to fame, was exactly where I belonged.
My parents were fabulously non-chalant about my completing only a single college application, thankfully refusing to follow the trend of high school students’ families who scour the country for a prestigious school and insist upon college applications that display a 4.0 along with a minimum of four extracurricular activities and two to three summer internships. Just last weekend The New York Times featured a story that high school students are increasingly losing their summers of relaxation, completing college courses, seminars and activities in preparation for applying to a university.
The University is no Ivy League pillar of scholastic wonder, but I deeply appreciate the fact that gaining entrance to this school did not involve selling my soul to activities that would have been, to me, completely meaningless.
Applying to only the University meant that I could guiltlessly take Arts & Crafts my senior year of high school and skip classes without the fear of lowered grades and therefore serious, life-long repercussion. I didn’t have to stress out because my three high school jobs took place not in an office, but rather an espresso bar, a retirement home and an ice cream shop.
At the end of my third University year, with one summer class left as my red carpet stroll to the real world, I can finally say that I would not have done anything differently. This campus is beautiful; my favorite tree with the drooping branches has changed little since I found it five years ago. Dormitories may be small, but the claustrophobia fosters camaraderie. Eugene is a haven of bicycle paths and natural food stores. In terms of education (oh, is that why I’m in college?), the University has a stellar English faculty, not to mention hilarious Film Studies professors who teach classes wherein we watch “The People Under the Stairs” or search for free hats in an online virtual reality.
I don’t regret the lack of prestige that may be associated with graduating from the University. At 21 years old, I’ve got a lifetime to honorably earn merit as a successful human being. College is like the ultimate club, wherein all members are devoted to learning new ideas and meeting new people and finding new ways of entertaining themselves. Attending a “good” university is not nearly as important as enjoying the experience.